


healing wounds (without the licking)

by kbecks41319



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mention of Character Death, Multi, idk what else to tag this as, sorry bbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1365487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbecks41319/pseuds/kbecks41319
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I always thought it would be werewolves," he mentions into the quiet, ignores the crack in his voice. Hears her hum against his skin. "That's why I never told him. I wanted to keep him safe."</p>
            </blockquote>





	healing wounds (without the licking)

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, I wrote this a while ago and just found it sitting in my documents. Obviously it's AU after season 2. Basically everyone's happy. Except, well... just read.

Stiles is eighteen when it happens.

And it's sudden. None of the knowing and waiting and watching.  
A wayward shot during a gang bust gone wrong. A single bullet, lodged in the head.

Simple. Sudden. No pain.

That's what the doctor kept repeating until Melissa scared him off and took Stiles away. And the teen lets it happen because his world is focused on this one point, the one feeling of... nothing. He snaps out of whatever it is when she mentions calling Scott, grabs her wrist with strength he didn't know he had. Tells her no. He doesn't want Scott. Not yet. Not with what he knows will be the ripe smell of death. Asks instead to see the body.

 _The Body_ , because if he refers to it as anything else he is going to freak.

It takes him longer than he's proud to admit before he gives her the go ahead to pull back the sheet. His stomach twists and he can't help the startled cry that escapes his lips, can't stop the tears. **It's wrong** , is all he whispers. Motions to the bullet hole. Asks if they'll fix it for the funeral. Only sighs when she says they will.

His dad is dead.

After that it's a flurry of nothing as he goes along with everything Melissa tells him to do. He only half listens, his body aching for sleep. He brushes off her multiple attempts to call Scott, ducks his head at her telling him he shouldn't be alone. He shrugs, smiles sadly, points out that he _is_ alone now. He thinks it's the quietest he's been since he was nine.

He drives home on autopilot, parks in the drive before he sees Erica on the steps. He pretends she's not there as he climbs out of the jeep and heads for the door. She must smell it on him, nose wrinkling. He tells her he doesn't want to talk about it. Makes her promise not to tell anyone yet. Asks what she's doing there. She mentions a pack meeting, waves it off considering. They're in the living room by now, both standing quietly. When her phone chimes, he watches with guarded eyes as she answers. Listens as she smoothly lies to Derek, gets them both out of the meeting. Hangs up with a small smile.

He doesn't protest when she tugs his hand and pulls him up the stairs. Simply allows her to take off his jacket, push him gently onto the bed and pull off his shoes. Doesn't so much as grunt when she climbs into bed with him, using werewolf strength to manhandle him beside her where she can pull him to her, his back to her chest. He feels her arm tighten around him, listens closely to the sound of her breathing against his neck, realizes her other arm is pillowing his head, tries to pretend she can hear another heartbeat in the room down the hall.

"I always thought it would be werewolves," he mentions into the quiet, ignores the crack in his voice. Hears her hum against his skin. "That's why I never told him. I wanted to keep him safe."

"You can't protect everyone, Stiles," she says softly, a whisper so quiet he wouldn't hear it if not for their position.

"He didn't look right. Melissa.. Scott's mom, she said - she said they'd fix it. Before. I don't want.. no one should see him like that. They can't." He realizes he's shaking, ignores it until she anchors him down even more.

"They'll fix him up," she promises as she nuzzles her nose against him.

He clutches at her, emotions rolling through him all at once and he knows they're smacking into her. But he can't stop it. Doesn't know how. When his breathing becomes ragged, he squeezes his eyes shut. "I'm alone," he whimpers. "They both left."

"I'm not leaving," she tells him softly, hand spreading over his thumping heart. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere. You're not alone."

And he believes her, if only long enough to fall asleep.

* * *

When he wakes up again, it's to a hushed voice and sunlight flickering through his half open blinds.

"No. Scott - I swear, he.. no. You shouldn't. Wait, okay? Just.. he just woke up. Tell everyone to keep away. I mean it."

There's a beep to signal the disconnecting call, her face appears a moment later at his door. No makeup Erica is much prettier but he swallows that down, ignores the burn in his throat.

"Who told?" He croaks out as he pushes himself to sit up, ignores the popping of his joints, notices she's in a pair of his sweats and old shirt that had belonged to his dad before.

"They had to make an official statement this morning," she sighs and points at a paper sitting on his bedside table. "You.. you were out a while."

He glances at the paper, reads the title, tosses it to a corner where it will stay for a good amount of time. "How long?"

"Almost a whole day," Erica replies as she settles at the foot of his bed, tucking legs under her. "I figured you could use it."

He's immensely grateful, nods as he ducks his head and clears his throat. "You didn't have to stay," he finally manages.

She once more motions to the bedside table, this time at a glass of water he hadn't noticed at first, before she halfheartedly rolls her eyes. "Made a promise, plus you're pack. We protect each other - even if it's from other pack members who don't know when to stop calling."

He hears the telltale vibrating of a ringing phone now, can't help but huff out a laugh at the face she makes as she shows him the caller ID. Offers his hand out, takes the phone and answers.

"Isaac, I'm fine." His voice breaks and he grabs the water, gulps it down.

"You sound.." There's a pause and in just those two words, Stiles knows he's going to give in. "Are you sure?" He finally manages, voice small and unsure.

"How about you come check for yourself, how does that sound?" Stiles raises an eyebrow, ignores Erica's knowing look, takes another sip of water. "Only you, though. Tell everyone else.. just not yet."

Another pause, followed by tapping at his window, a beep signaling the call disconnecting. The teen actually laughs as Erica bounces up lazily to unlock the window (something she had to have done, because Stiles never locks it anymore) and lets Isaac in.

And then Stiles is engulfed in warm arms, eyes shut as he soaks up the feeling of pack and love and safety. He stays quiet as Isaac practically climbs in his lap, ignoring the laws of physics, wrapping himself up in Stiles. Erica merely snorts fondly at the scene, moves back to her spot on the bed.

"You smell like Erica," Isaac finally manages after a couple of uninterrupted minutes of sniffing and scenting, sounding more than a little appalled at the fact.

"I'm sure Erica smells fine," Stiles offers even though he knows that's definitely not what Isaac means. "She's learned to take regular showers," he adds in afterthought, earning him a swift jab to the leg from said werewolf.

"It's like when you went with Allison to negotiate and came back smelling like her. It's..." Issac stumbles for a word, looking to Erica for help. Which he gets.

"It's weird when you smell too much like just _one_ of us. You're all of ours and it's unspoken you should smell like us all." She shrugs, no longer finding it strange - her urge to scent the human in front of her.

"Hey, I am my own person! I don't need no.. man." He flounders over the word, glances uneasily at Erica who simply rolls her eyes in that overly affectionate way. "But I get it. Pups get jealous when I play favorites." Stiles nods seriously, rubbing his nose against Isaac's cheek.

"Basically," Isaac admits as Erica laughs in agreement.

There's a quiet lull as Stiles simply lets Isaac assure himself that he's okay, Erica keeping herself busy as she flips through a book from the floor. Their moment is interrupted when a phone starts to vibrate, followed by a ringtone that Stiles knows is all Isaac.

"They're worried," the boy explains with an apologetic look as he pulls out his phone.

"Erica, go grab all the spare blankets from the hall closet. Isaac, tell them to come in." Stiles pauses, shifting slightly to grab Erica's phone to glance at the time. "And, for the love of everything holy, have them use Scott's key. Mrs. Sanders nearly had a heart attack last time she saw Cora jumping through the window. We'll meet them in the living room."

When Erica heads out of the room and Isaac shifts off his lap, Stiles allows himself a brief moment to stretch before he stands, gathers his comforter and pillow. Says nothing when Isaac grabs the large wolf plush toy from his computer chair that Derek had gave him a while back and carries it downstairs too.

He makes it to the bottom of the stairs before he's attacked, arms almost smothering him as several bodies try to reassure themselves that he's okay. It's Scott directly in front of him, nose at the crook of his neck and he feels tears.

"You should've let mom call me, man." His best friend scolds but it doesn't hold much weight. Not with the way he's clinging to the other.

"Erica was here." As if he knew she would be there. As if he hadn't planned on drinking himself to sleep.

"Quit smothering the guy and come bask in the awesome of my doggy bed." Erica demands, eyes twinkling as she flashes her fangs teasingly.

Stiles is thankful when everyone lets go, Cora takes the bundle from his arms, leaves him there to stare at the one person who hasn't yet touched to reassure.

"I know. I should've called, I should've let you know but I - I didn't want you to see me - anyone to see me like that and suddenly Erica was there and I knew she wouldn't.. she would just, be. And I wanted to call you but I was tired and just exhausted and oh god, please say something." He rambles until he bites his lip, glances down at his feet before up again with big innocent eyes that are glassy.

"You realize you were literally protecting me from yourself, idiot?" The last word is affectionate, laced with love and care, even though they tumble from Derek's lips. He takes the few steps between them easily, wraps Stiles up in his arms, nuzzles the human's neck and inhales deeply.

"You smell like Isaac and Erica." He hums, a grin curving against the skin of Stiles' neck before he mutters quietly. " _Knew_ you had favorites."


End file.
